Never So Bright
by yellowNight
Summary: Wilson sat back down on House’s bed. He tried to organize the facts in his mind, but he couldn’t. And now House was speaking to him in a patronizing tone, making the bizarre situation even worse. [No slash. HouseWilson friendship]COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Fic: Never So Bright**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine!**

**Reviews always appreciated!**

"Get out of bed."

"Be nice, I'm sick."

"You are not sick. Get out of bed."

House pulled his sheet over his head like a child.

"House."

"Go"

"House, I'm under direct orders to drag you out of bed if I have to. Is that what you want?" Wilson sighed as he sat at the foot of House's bed.

"You can try, but I will bite if I have to."

Wilson knew from House's sarcasm that he obviously wasn't sick.

Wilson walked over to the curtains. House peaked out from under the sheets, "What are you doing?"

"Just opening the curtains to let some light in, alright?" Wilson had lost his patience. This behavior was odd, even for House.

"Don't."

Wilson conceded, but walked over to the lights and flipped them on.

House ducked under the covers again, "What'd you do that for?"

"House, I think you know this already, but you're being an ass. Are you depressed? Is that it? Usually when you get depressed you just verbally abuse everybody around you," Wilson mused more to himself.

"Yeah. That's it. Go to work, okay? I'm fine."

Wilson couldn't take House seriously while he was hiding under the covers, "Let's recap. You don't show up for work for two days. You don't call in sick, and you don't pick up your phone when we try to contact you. Cuddy sends me here to get you to come in. I open the door to your unlocked apartment. You are in the bathroom, but when you hear my foot steps you disappear into your bedroom. When I follow you, I find you under the covers in a dark room even though it's the middle of the day. You aren't fine, but you are a pain in the ass."

House laughed and his voice suddenly softened to a tone Wilson was not used to, "I want you to leave, okay? I'm asking you to go."

"House?" Wilson asked, thoroughly confused by the situation. A small voice in Wilson's head was telling him to listen to House- to just get up and go.

But he couldn't leave.

House knew his friend wasn't going to leave until he got an explanation. He came out from under the covers.

The first thing Wilson noticed was that House was fully dressed, sneakers and all.

And then, Wilson knew. He knew why House hadn't shown up to work the past couple of days. He knew why House tried to hide in the dark. He knew why House dove under the covers.

"Please, just go," House said in a tone that could be construed as House pitying Wilson for knowing his secret.

"Wait. Wait, we can fix this," Wilson stammered.

House laughed what seemed to be a genuine laugh, "Not this time."

Wilson sighed. He asked desperately, "What now?"

"What now? Now you go back to work and tell Cuddy that I have the flu. Then you come back here after your shift and bring a pizza."

Wilson sat back down on House's bed. He tried to organize the facts in his mind, but he couldn't. And now House was speaking to him in a patronizing tone, making the bizarre situation even worse.

Finally Wilson couldn't help it, "You're yellow, House. You're actually….yellow."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews! **

Death had placed House in check many times before. Wilson was unable to believe that this could be check mate. It was always lurking behind House. Sometimes ten steps behind, sometimes right over his shoulder, and sometimes Death jumped in front, trying to take him off guard. But this time, Death seemed to have snuck up, placing his hands around House's neck, slowly closing them until he achieved a victory.

"So the sunglasses?"

"Not a hangover. The jaundice started in the eyes a couple of weeks ago and last week the whites were practically neon, so I knew somebody would notice," House seemed bored by this, as though he had already practiced this conversation in his head a thousand times.

"What about UNOS?"

"What about UNOS?" House returned Wilson's question.

Wilson was losing his patience, "Didn't you contact UNOS?"

House smirked, but without the usual sarcasm, "I'm a documented drug addict, and I drink heavily. There's no point."

"What about a congenital defect? If you have a family history of any genetic disorders of the liver, that automatically trumps any addictions. Plus,"

House stopped Wilson, "My family has no history of liver disease. And I'd be stealing a liver from some poor kid who probably never even had a drink in his life"

"You know that's not true."

"But that's what I have to tell my self," House snapped.

Wilson's voice began to rise, "I am just not as ready to give up and accept this as you apparently are."

The calm in House's voice returned, which irritated Wilson further. Wilson wanted to see some shred of emotion from his friend, some recognition of the urgency of the situation. House sighed, "We all die, James. Just some of us sooner than others."

Wilson shook his head, "That's all you've got?"

"That's all I've got," House replied with a small laugh.

Wilson was at a loss for words. He sat at the edge of House's bed. He looked at his friend's yellow eyes and his yellow skin. He had seen patients with jaundice before, but the yellow hue was never as bright. House almost seemed to glow. Wilson was sure that if he took a wet rag he could wipe the yellow from his skin as though it was paint.

"Ironic that death comes in such a bright color. Most people think of death as black-not yellow," House remarked as a response to Wilson's staring.

"I'm not ready yet," Wilson's voice became quiet.

House looked at Wilson with so much pity that the empathy actually made his chest ache. If there was any time to show compassion, House figured it was now.

House extended his arm around Wilson's shoulders, and let his friend cry.

end


End file.
